Creatures of Ash
by plumbloom
Summary: A/U fic set after "The Chase". Zuko and Iroh struggle to begin a new life in Jet's hometown, and Sokka breaks off from the gAang in search of his father. ABANDONED, but also scavenged and incorporated into "The Day He Himself Shall Wipe My Tears Away"
1. Loomings

**Chapter One**

Zuko knelt beside his dying uncle in the heart of the Earth Kingdom and watched the ghost town burn. He had nothing left save the clothes on his back and his broadswords – his supplies, along with his ostrich horse, were being destroyed along with the town. He had barely managed to drag Iroh out of the crackling ruins with what little strength was left in him. He'd since ceased cursing and crying and now he crouched at Iroh's side and attempted to make him comfortable by pillowing a ripped piece of fabric underneath his head. Iroh was unconscious and breathed shallowly. Zuko's fists clenched as he replayed the scene of Azula striking Iroh over in his mind: the way her mask of innocence had vanished as she brought her arm around and directed a bolt straight at her uncle's heart. Zuko had lashed back out at her with the full force of his bending, but she had vanished as if into the earth itself. _I'll kill her_, he vowed. _If Uncle dies, I'll kill her. I've lost the Avatar, my honor, I've lost my throne – I may as well sever this last tie._

Yet he hesitated at the thought that killing Azula would extinguish the potential for achieving a position of worth in his father's eyes.

"It doesn't matter," Zuko said to the curling flames. "It shouldn't matter." How could he possibly face his father knowing that he was – indirectly, if not directly – responsible for and proud of Azula's trickery. He had hoped, before this day, that it was not true. How could he, even with the Avatar in hand, return to his life as a prince without Iroh? Iroh had been his companion and his mentor in his banished years and saved his life countless times. Moreover, how could he stand having to stare Iroh's murderess straight in the face each day?

Iroh groaned and Zuko's thoughts immediately turned from revenge to his uncle. He knew pitifully little about healing. They were exposed, and extremely vulnerable. Cursing, perhaps for the first time, his pride in not taking assistance from the Avatar's companions, Zuko closed his eyes and tried to focus and find his uncle's pulse. He prayed silently that Azula was more interested in pursuing the Avatar than she was in capturing a couple of wounded and exhausted traitors. He took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the sensation of Iroh's pulse.

Instead, he felt the ground trembling beneath him.

The tremor was faint, but something or someone was definitely approaching. Something large and animal-drawn, from the feel of it. Zuko leapt to his feet and drew his swords, assuming a fighting stance. He wished desperately that there were someplace to hide his uncle, but the landscape was barren all around them, and all the remains of the town were ablaze. He stood over Iroh and waited. Above the roar of the fire, he caught snatches of shouting:

"It's just shambles! Leave it, we can't – anyway – "

"There's a dead ostrich horse!"

Around the south end of the town, a large wagon drawn by what looked to be a pair of lion-mules appeared. There was a man guiding the unafraid beasts, and two smaller figures seated at the mouth of the wagon. They looked to be harmless traders, and Zuko relaxed a fraction. The man waved at him.

"Yhaao! Do you need assistance?"

Zuko glanced down at Iroh and was startled to find the latter's eyes open and calm. "Prince Zuko," he rasped.

"Don't call me that anymore," Zuko ordered brusquely. Then, more gently, "And don't try to talk." He sheathed his swords and came a few paces forward, favoring his burned leg. The man stopped the wagon and, dismounting, approached slowly but with calm. He was heavy-shouldered and well built, particularly in the arms, and his stance demonstrated to Zuko that he was no simple merchant but a warrior of some kind. Earrings snaked their way up both of his ears, and they glittered in the sun.

"I'm Deukku, of Nanami," the man said, freely. "We were returning home from purchasing supplies when we noticed the lightning, and then the fire. Can I aid you?"

Zuko did not hesitate. "I'm Li, and this is my uncle, Mushi. We are travelers. What you witnessed was caused by a Fire Nation soldier, who fled after he injured my uncle. I believe he is dying. I know nothing of healing, and our supplies burned in the fire." He bowed his head, though it hurt his pride. "Any help you can give us, I will repay."

While he was speaking, the smaller of the two figures on the wagon had leapt down and come to Deukku's side. Zuko watched it approach, and was surprised to find that the figure was – although quite masculine in appearance – a girl, as betrayed by her movements. She looked to be about sixteen, with short hair and fierce facepaint. Now she spoke in a throaty voice, touching the sleeve of Deukku's garment.

"We can't afford to tarry long. But Deukku, Fire Nation – "

"I know." Deukku appeared lost in thought as he examined the sandy ground. Suddenly he glanced up at Zuko. "We cannot stop. Already, we've wasted valuable traveling time. But consider this. Smellerbee – " he gestured to the sullen-looking figure at his elbow " – is an excellent healer. If you will ride with us, she can tend to your uncle and to your leg. In two days, we will arrive at Nanami. There you will be able to find work and a temporary dwelling while your uncle recovers. If this is not acceptable, we will transport you to the nearest town." The girl named Smellerbee started to protest, but he cut her off. "We will lose time, but we are indebted to those who have suffered at the hands of the Fire Nation. I warn you, however, that there is no guarantee that you will find adequate treatment for your uncle."

Unsure, Zuko glanced at Iroh, who was still breathing shallowly but watched his nephew from under half-closed lids and did not attempt to interfere. He knew from his lessons as a boy that Nanami was an old seaport on the very edge of the Earth Kingdom, and that it was likely that the Avatar was headed for Ba Sing Sae, practically on the other side of the world. In any case, traveling so far away would definitely destroy any attempt to continue tracking the Avatar. But staying would almost certainly mean Iroh's death. Zuko made his decision abruptly in an attempt to banish regret.

"We'll go with you. Thank you." He bowed over a furiously beating heart that sent blood rushing to his head and made him flush. Deukku extended a hand and gripped Zuko's forearm as Smellerbee went to his uncle's side.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They traveled for the rest of the day and throughout the night without stopping. The other figure on the wagon was introduced to Zuko as Longshot, a lean and silent boy with a wicked-looking quiver of arrows on his back. While Smellerbee washed and dressed Iroh's wounds, Longshot slept on a pallet in the cramped cabin of the wagon. Zuko was too worried to sleep, even after Smellerbee tersely reassured him that Iroh was in a herb-induced sleep and out of danger. She offered to tend to Zuko's wound, but assured her that he knew enough to take care of a simple burn. He was surprised, but pleased, when she handed him a jar of awful-smelling poultice and some strips of cloth and left him to clumsily dress it himself.

Finally, around midnight, Deukku stumbled in the cabin and rose Longshot, who went with Smellerbee out to the mouth to guide the lion-mules. The man looked tired and grimy from the dust that rose on the trail, but he wiped his face and offered food and drink to Zuko before sitting down on the pallet with a meat pie and a tall glass of what smelled like rice wine. As he ate, he told Zuko more about himself. Apparently he owned a tavern with his twin brother, and Smellerbee and Longshot, along with another boy, lived with and occasionally worked for them.

"The tavern is a good source of income, but we make our real money on the fights."

Zuko knew that Deukku was only talking in order to be polite and to distract him from Iroh, so he had not been listening very closely. At this remark, however, he shifted his gaze from his uncle and asked, "Fights?"

Deukku grinned. "Would you like to try your hand? No bending, no weapons, only fists and feet. Just for fun, and of course, profit. People pay to watch, and perhaps make a few coins by betting. It's a popular distraction. Occasionally, my brother or I will accept a challenge." He motioned to his earrings as his grin grew wider. "I don't like to brag, but I don't lose."

Zuko was silent.

"Even if you don't want to fight, you will have no trouble finding employment in Nanami. It's true that the market is no more, and the wharf is controlled by soldiers. But the bounties of the sea are still plenty, and many cannot afford or do not wish to move away. And able young people are short in supply with the army demanding recruits."

"All I know of Nanami is that it is a seaport, formerly a great one," Zuko said. "And that there was a peace treaty between it and the Fire Nation."

"Oh? Yes, I suppose it was. The Fire Nation broke the treaty many years ago and attempted to take over the port. Since then, there are few ships that dare to come and trade. We have a small garrison of Earth Kingdom and Water soldiers, but the attacks are rare now – perhaps thrice a year. Nanami has been rebuilt since those times, and we are self-sufficient now, for the most part. For the rest – " Deukku jerked his thumb toward the back of the wagon. "You see why we cannot stop. I don't like to be away for a long time. Captured, Nanami would be a strategic holding for the Fire Nation, especially with their control of Omashu. It's a good port to funnel soldiers and supplies through, and a base could possibly be built nearby." Suddenly Deukku laughed. "I must be getting a bit tipsy. Sorry to be so bleak! What of yourself?"

Zuko finished the bite of meat pie in his mouth and said, "My uncle and I were displaced by the war. We've been traveling ever since, looking for a place to settle down." Deukku's long-winded conversation had provided him with ample time to concoct this simple explanation.

"Well, perhaps Nanami will be your place. Do you like the sea?"

Grimly, Zuko replied, "I've had some experience with it."

"Good!"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They traveled through the night and into the heat of the next day. At first, Zuko was reluctant to leave his uncle's side, but Iroh remained in a drug-induced stupor. At length, he offered to take a turn at the reins. Deukku accepted, beaming, and after giving Zuko a brief demonstration, left him alone in the midday sun. The girl, Smellerbee, joined him after a few minutes. There was an uncomfortable silence until Zuko attempted to thank her.

"I'm indebted to you…" he began awkwardly, and then trailed off as she waved a dismissive hand.

"Don't worry about it." She arranged herself more comfortably on the seat and brought out a knife and a whetstone. "It was my pleasure after I'd figured out who you were."

Zuko tensed, recalling the faces of the villagers. _You're no prince. _Mouths that had been cheering minutes before, now curled up with scorn. And a childish, but heartfelt_ I hate you!_ "Oh?" he asked, trying to appear calm.

Smellerbee finished sharpening the first knife and moved on to another, rubbing smudged paint over the bridge of her nose as she wiped away sweat. "Your uncle was in excellent condition for a man his age."

"Yes." The lion-mules were feeling his tension. He forced himself to relax his grip on the reins.

"You're carrying broadswords – heavy weaponry for a simple traveler. And," Smellerbee paused briefly, "you knew that I was a girl. Only a warrior would know something like that. The commoners all think I'm a boy."

Genuinely confused, Zuko said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're among friends," Smellerbee reassured him in her hoarse voice. "I know that a Fire Nation soldier wouldn't burn a ghost town and injure an old man like that unless he had good cause. Well, if the Fire Nation has cause to do that to you, then I'm pleased to know you and assisted you and your uncle."

There seemed to be nothing else to say. Zuko was silent as Smellerbee sharpened a third knife and cleaned her face. Without her paint, she looked like an innocent girl-child. Finally she rose and went into the cabin of the wagon.

The midday sun blurred the road before them. Zuko wiped a thin layer of sweat and dust from his face. He could taste the dust in the back of his throat, mingled with the bitter tang of fear. Swallowing, he tried to fix his eyes on the horizon ahead, but he soon drifted off to sleep, lulled by the sound of the lion-mules' hooves.

When he woke, the sun was setting, and it was much colder. The vegetation had changed, too, and the lion-mules galloped along as if something were chasing them. Listening carefully, Zuko could make out the distant roar of the sea. He rose, careful to balance his weight evenly, and stretched out his sore muscles. The air was clean and tasted of salt. He remained standing for a moment, staring at the first few stars in the sky. Something like a cry rose up in his throat, but instead he exhaled forcefully. Turning, he ducked down and went into the cabin.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sokka opened his mouth and took a deep breath as they strolled through the marketplace. "Meat," he said contentedly.

The four travelers had stopped in a backwater Earth Kingdom town to buy supplies before settling down so that Toph could instruct Aang in earthbending. Surprisingly, the marketplace had a decent variety of food and other tools, and after eating a large meal, the four had set out to peruse the wares available. Already the people of the town were whispering and pointing as Aang happily went from stall to stall, pointing at curios and occasionally snatching up a piece of bread or fruit to munch.

"Don't spend too much," Sokka cautioned Katara after she'd purchased Aang his third treat, a bag of litchi nuts. "We need money for supplies."

"I know," she said. "Don't buy too much meat. Aang doesn't eat it, and you can always hunt."

Sokka sighed. "I know," he replied, and reached out to touch a shaded table holding pounds of some bright red fillet. "But these don't live in the wild."

"Hm?"

"The ones without hair or feathers or bone."

Katara rolled her eyes. "Just be useful for once and get something the three of us can enjoy."

Stung, Sokka wandered away, though he kept an eye on Aang, expecting if not trouble, then some kind of commotion.

Gradually yet predictably, the townspeople began to approach Aang. One gave him a wreath of flowers; another, a hand-bound book. Soon he was laden with gifts and grinning with embarrassment as the babble of the marketplace rose to a crescendo around him.

"Please," said Toph, suddenly at Sokka's elbow. He paused in his examination of a

slaughtered turtle hen, hung upside down by its feet, and looked down at her. Her face was blank, but her arms were folded in a gesture of annoyance. "Can we hurry up and get out of here? I don't want to be recognised by anyone, and that's kind of hard when you're traveling with _him_."

"Just a few more minutes," Sokka replied. "If you'd like to help me carry supplies back to Appa, then – "

"Hey! I've got something for you!" A man on a skittery ostrich horse approached them, dismounting with some difficulty. Sokka released the turtle hen and it swung away, to the dismay of the shopkeeper. He faced the man with a marked disinterest.

"If you're looking for the Avatar, that's him," Sokka said, motioning over his back to where Aang was scarfing down a basket of pastries with a few of the town's children.

"No, I'm looking for his companion…" the man pulled a tattered parchment from his belt and read with difficulty, "Takka."

"Sokka?"

"Maybe. Anyway, I'm supposed to give it to a Water Tribe boy traveling with the Avatar. That's you." The man rummaged in a parcel slung over the ostrich horse's back and extracted a scroll, which he handed to Sokka, who was silently bristling at the word 'boy'. Sokka accepted it, and his breath caught when he saw the markings etched on its end.

"What is it?" Toph asked, sounding mildly interested.

"It's from Bato, a family friend." Sokka started to open the scroll, pausing only when the man cleared his throat loudly. He produced a coin and flipped it absent-mindedly at the man, not noticing the latter's scowl at the amount, and continued to unroll the message. He stood motionless, reading, as the commotion surrounding Aang slowly died down and Katara made her way over to them, grinning.

Toph ground her foot into the dust, noting Sokka's rising heartbeat. "Well? What's going on?"

"Sokka?" Katara called. "I'm done buying supplies. We can leave now." As she and Aang drew closer, she noticed that Sokka had blanched and was licking his lips over and over. Other than that, not a single muscle of his body moved. She gently touched him on the shoulder, and he jumped.

"He got a message from some guy named Bato," Toph announced in a monotone. "Now can we please leave before someone comes up with the bright idea of giving Aang all the firstborn children in town?"

"Is Dad okay?" Katara asked, fear clouding her voice. Wordlessly, Sokka handed her the scroll. She read it, frowning, while Sokka knelt and started stuffing his satchel with supplies that she had just bought. "I don't understand. Why didn't he ask me to come with you?"

"Dad wouldn't want that," Sokka replied as he tucked food into the satchel. "He doesn't want you to get hurt."

Aang toyed with his wreath, concerned but recognising that it would be unwise to come between the siblings. "Go where? Why?"

"Bato has just found our father at a port on the west coast of the Earth Kingdom. When Bato told him that we were traveling with the Avatar, he asked that Sokka join them immediately. Bato says here that he's worried about our father's mental health – that he knows what we're doing with Aang is important, but that he thinks it's best if Sokka does come, and right away. I don't understand," Katara said, her voice rising slightly out of control. "What do you mean, he doesn't want me to get hurt? I can fight just as well as you. _Better_ than you!"

"Katara," Aang said in alarm.

Sokka rose to his feet quickly, and Katara could see in his eyes that she had hurt him. Nevertheless, his voice, when he spoke, was deadpan.

"Our father doesn't know that, remember?" He forced a laugh that fell dead into the dusty air. "The last time he saw you, you were only waterbending to pull pranks. And it's better if you stay with Aang anyway. It'll take him awhile to master earthbending, won't it? You guys don't need me during that time. Besides, you know where I'm going. We'll be back together again in no time, whether you come to me or I come to you." This was all addressed in the direction of Aang, though it was clear from the tone of the words that Sokka meant them for Katara.

"You're leaving?" Aang asked, sounding helpless.

"He's not leaving! I won't let him leave," Katara ground out, though she felt close to screaming, and wanted to finish with _without me_. Instead she saw the hurt and confusion in Aang's eyes, and something inside her seemed to break, scattering ice throughout her body. She took Aang's hand, and forced a smile that would not quite come. "…without a goodbye." With her other hand, she grabbed the bag of supplies, then leaned forward and kissed Sokka's cheek. "Bye, Sokka." The kiss was shorter and more stunning than a slap.

He pressed his fingers to his cheek, and in his mind, he could see blood on the tundra of his home.

Toph felt her move off with Aang, and then turned to Sokka. "You're really leaving?"

Sokka watched his sister disappear with the Avatar at her side. He wanted to run after her and explain, plead his case, force her into understanding, beg her forgiveness, embrace her. He wanted to say a million things, but the desire to bite his tongue won over and filled his mouth with a metallic silence.

"Yeah," Sokka said, and turned his back on Toph as well. "I'm leaving."


	2. Nanami

**Chapter Two**

The building Deukku indicated for Zuko and Iroh's temporary lodgings was some ten years' abandoned and smelled faintly on the inside of charred wood. It consisted of one large room attached to two smaller ones on the east side, and was full of old junk, most of it burnt. But it was, if one could believe Deukku, the best lodgings in the area.

"Anywhere else, you'd have to pay a heavy fee," Deukku explained as he helped Zuko set up sleeping pallets in the small rooms. "The only legitimate inn here is attached to a bath house, and they'd want you to pay for its services whether you used them or not."

He helped Zuko carry Iroh into the larger room and arrange him comfortably. "Best of all, our tavern's right down the street, and from there you're only a short walk to the seafront. In fact, this place was our rival, many years ago." He stood up straight and laughed again. "Who says war isn't good for business?"

Zuko bowed. "Thank you again for your kindness. We'll repay you as soon as we're able."

Deukku lifted a hand. "No need. I couldn't be expected to just abandon a traveler who hadn't two coins to bless himself, could I?" Zuko frowned, not understanding the reference, but Deukku did not seem to notice. "Of course…you may end up repaying me without knowing it." He grinned and gripped Zuko's forearm in a friendly gesture of farewell as the latter stared blankly in confusion. "That's neither the sea nor the sand, now. I'm sending over one of my staff to help you clear away some of the junk and make this place liveable."

"That's not – "

"Nonsense, you'll at least need the firepits fixed and cleaned. With the wind off the sea, it can get mighty cold at night. Jet's always itching for something to do."

Somewhat cornered, Zuko accepted Deukku's offer. When the tavern owner finally departed, he went to his uncle's side and knelt, watching Iroh's steady breathing.

Smellerbee had assured him that Iroh would be unconscious for at least a day more, but the sense of helplessness and loneliness that had inexplicably descended when Deukku left made Zuko hope that perhaps Iroh would wake up a bit early. Then, scoffing at his own weakness, Zuko went over to the firepit cut into the floor of Iroh's room. He quickly cleaned it of debris and started a small fire with what coal remained in the pit. Satisfied, Zuko left his uncle alone, shutting the screen to the room behind him as he exited. He tensed upon exit, sensing the presence of another person in the main room.

An olive-skinned boy of perhaps seventeen was leaning against the doorframe of the main entrance, watching him. He was built lightly, though he was not as thin as Longshot. His hair was dark and touseled, and he watched Zuko intently as he chewed on a reed. Several lanterns hung around the main room, evidently his work.

"I'm Jet," he announced, coming away from the door and approaching Zuko.

"Li," Zuko said without enthusiasm. Jet was also, clearly, a warrior of some kind. Strangely, Zuko felt more comfortable with the knowledge that he was in a town seemingly full of warriors than he did in a common town. He had no finesse for commoners; he was too brusque, and he knew it. Here, it seemed, it was finesse to be brusque.

Jet jerked his head at the piles of rubble. "Let's get this cleared away."

Zuko worked with Jet in silence. The boy was lean, but strong. He showed Zuko how to carry the debris through a paper screen in rear of the main room out to a small platform behind the tavern. There, a muddy ditch glistened with refuse of all colours, some of it solid, but most a thick soup that smelled suspiciously like sewage. Zuko coughed in disgust as the smell choked him.

"Yeah, it's about time for the slug to make its rounds," Jet said, seeming to be unaffected by the smell. He tossed the rotted legs of a table into the sludge. "Any organic garbage you got, you dump into this trench. Every street has a trench on each side, and a couple of junkyard slugs do the rest of the work. You ever see a junkyard slug?"

Zuko shook his head, absorbed in studying the houses beside him. Down to the end of the street, each of the houses and buildings had a similar platform that led out to the foul receptacle. He bent and threw some old beams and dust-covered tatters of paper screens into the ditch.

"There's precious little they won't eat. All the same, don't throw too much rock or glass out here. And definitely no metal. They get sick if they eat metal, and a sick slug is bad for everyone." Jet finished with his pile, and started back inside. "Besides, all metal here is recycled. So if you have any, you can take it down to the wharf. I'll show you around after we finish clearing this junk."

They made several more trips out to the trench, and slowly Zuko got used to the smell to the point where he ceased gagging. Once emptied, there was little useful remaining in the tavern. Deukku had replaced the rotten and torn screens, and hung a thick rug over the main entrance, but the entire place looked as if it could use a good sweeping, and perhaps a paint job. Here and there were holes in the walls, which he and Jet plugged with mud or rotten cloth. Jet surveyed their work with obvious pleasure.

"It's not beautiful, but as temporary lodgings, it'll do well." Jet turned to the main entrance as Smellerbee ducked inside. "What do you think?"

She'd repainted her face, and it made her look serious and rather grim. "If you had your way, every one of the buildings we deal with would look this way."

"What? There's nothing wrong with a temporary fix," he protested as she made her way to the side room, arms full with heavy-looking bundles. "The point is to get people to move back."

Smellerbee did not reply. Jet cocked an eyebrow at the screen behind which she'd disappeared, but otherwise his expression was inscrutable. Zuko hesitated, wanting to join Smellerbee as she tended to Iroh, but unwilling to be rude to the boy who had aided him in the clearing of his temporary home. Jet noticed his stiff posture and slapped a friendly hand on his shoulder, causing Zuko to tense and shrug away. Undaunted, Jet bowed a little and asked, "Li, may I have the honor of showing you around?"

He was loath to leave his uncle, but it seemed that there was little he could do while Iroh was unconscious. His hosts had been forthright thus far. Zuko inclined his head in silent agreement.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nanami had once been a prosperous city, Zuko noted as Jet showed him around. Many of the buildings were not only sturdy but beautiful, and he saw the hollowed-out remains of museums and opera houses. Farther from the seafront, many beautiful old dwellings were in shambles. Jet led him through the silent streets, talking as they moved.

"No one lives in this section anymore. Those who lived here were wealthy, and after the first attack they packed what they could and fled. The remains have been picked over and picked over again, and soon the skeletons of the houses will be torn away. It's just as well," Jet shrugged as he stepped over an empty oil barrel. "Nanami is a seaport, not a pleasure town for tourists or a place for nobles to live. Only the most loyal of citizens are left."

He gestured at the changing faces of the buildings as they moved closer to the centre of the town. "Most of the people live here now, where the old marketplace was once. Unless they own a local business, most of the adults work down at the seafront or in the factories closer to the water." Zuko dodged a trio of laughing children as they walked down a cobblestone street. "Everything here has been rebuilt. It's not the ideal life – provisions are a little more expensive than they used to be – but we'd rather be self-sufficient and a little poorer than make deals with the Fire Nation and have sugar with our tea. We're not too far from the Spiderfish Tavern and your place. Both are on the main thoroughfare, just a few streets over from here."

Zuko noticed butchershops, dry goods stores, and of course, many seafood markets. Though most of the people he saw were women and children, they all looked busy and relatively content. They dressed in tunics of all colours and cut, and many did not have the typical coloration of Earth Kingdom citizens. Jet noticed him staring and chuckled.

"The rumours hold that all of the merchants were terrified and fled after the first raid," he said, shrugging. "But as you can see, that's not true. Many settled down, had families. They saw that Nanami was standing up to the Fire Nation while many others had fallen. They found safety and a new purpose for life in Nanami. Perhaps," and here Jet paused to hold Zuko's gaze, "you and your uncle will feel similarly, after some time here."

"We're travelers," Zuko replied. He noticed that Jet had been staring at his scar, and felt a sudden rush of shame. If Jet noticed his face reddening, he made no comment. Ahead, he could hear music and shouted laughter. To distract the boy, Zuko pointed and asked, "And there?"

Jet grinned, and the expression looked slightly strange on him. "The centre of town. The gisaeng house, sometime bath-house and inn. The only taste of 'culture' Nanami needs, just as the fights at Spiderfish are our only amusement. Pleasure activities down at the seafront are no longer as safe as they used to be, so a traveling woman founded this house years back. Come," he said to Zuko as he increased his pace. "They've got a great rooftop view of the town."

"I should be getting back to my uncle," Zuko protested as Jet led him toward the bath house.

"Don't worry about it," Jet said, unconcernedly. "Bee's got it under control. Besides, you need employment, don't you?" He slowed as they approached the place. It was huge, the largest building Zuko had yet seen in Nanami. To his surprise, it was nothing like the bawdy pleasures houses he had sometimes seen in Earth Kingdom or Fire Nation towns. Soft light from paper lanterns illuminated the porch, and a small group of men and gisaengS sat in the gathering dark, listening to a gisaeng play a samisen and sing. They were drinking, but relaxed, and their laughter filled the street. The delicious smell of food cooking drifted through the open windows. The paper lanterns moved gently in the breeze off the ocean.

"I don't think I have the kind of experience necessary to work at a place like this," Zuko said lamely.

Jet threw his head back and laughed. "Joke, right? You're not working here. But you'll be able to see where you're working _from_ here. Then tomorrow you can find your way and start asking around. You'll be hired easy, I'm sure." He headed for the front door, and Zuko followed him reluctantly, trying not to glance too obviously at the people on the porch. The gisaengs hung onto the arms or over the shoulders of the men, watching them play pai sho, or serving them drinks.

Inside, it was much quieter. A young man behind the reception desk glanced up at them. "Will the gentlemen require a room, or only the bath – Jet!" He smiled warmly at the boy. "I haven't seen you in awhile."

"I've been busy," Jet replied, grinning again. "Shong, this is Li. I thought I'd give him a peek at the town from the roof."

"Sure, go right ahead, just be careful. I think the mistress mentioned that you left the trapdoor unlatched last time you went. Some of the ladies were concerned."

Jet winked at Shong, who rolled his eyes. "The ladies. Of course." He led Zuko up a narrow staircase that did not empty out to any of the other levels, but instead led straight to a trapdoor in the highest ceiling of the building, which opened upward to let them out on the roof. It was treacherous, as the roof was sharply slanted in the favored Fire Nation style, but Zuko had chased Azula over a few rooftops when he was younger, and he found a place next to Jet with little difficulty. He was prepared to ask Jet about the strange design of the building when he noticed that the boy was looking out, a strange expression on his face. Zuko followed his gaze and could not suppress a gasp.

The rest of Nanami, out to the sea, was a patchwork of metal and fire. A thin line of enormous factories started where the centre of town ended. Zuko had not noticed the smoke and ash from that section in the increasing darkness, but he could smell it now as it drifted up on the wind from the ocean. Factory workers moved around, small and methodical as ants. Here and there, the huge metal doors were thrown open so that blotches of fiery light cast light on the immediate surroundings. Zuko could make out the sharp outlines of machinery and coal furnaces. Men descended metal stairways, gesturing to one another, smudged with oil and coal. It was, somehow, a beautiful scene.

Beyond the factories, there was a wharf crafted in the old wooden style, but it was lit only by a lantern here or there. And beyond that –

"There's nothing on the wharf anymore," Jet said softly, but Zuko was startled by his voice nonetheless. "Just equipment and tools for the ships. The Fire Nation's navy is unmatched, or so they say. Soon they shall say _was_ unmatched."

Hundred of ships of all sizes were spread out over the face of the water. Their make was strange, clearly modeled after Fire Nation ships but different. Zuko squinted, but he could not make them out well. Jet beamed.

"You'll get a better look at them tomorrow. They were designed by the best engineers of the Earth Kingdom, and the plans were smuggled to us after the first attack. We make them in the factories. They're superior in every way to Fire Nation ships. All we lack now are men to crew them. That's why recently we've received a detachment of Water Tribe soldiers to train the portion of the Earth Kingdom army staying here. They live in a barracks near the water and try not to mingle with the town proper. It's safer that way."

Jet pointed north. "Where the wharf ends, there's where you'll search for a job. Fishing is done farther out at sea, mostly, but you could always land a job in the factories if the seafront fails."

Zuko found it hard to be silent. "Why hasn't the Fire Nation attacked, if the ships aren't crewed properly?"

"Arrogance. We've never used any of the ships in battle, and the Firelord is only interested in capturing Nanami, so he won't order it laid to waste. I suppose he plans to commandeer the ships after he captures the port." Jet laughed. "It'll never happen. By the time he realises the magnitude of his error, he'll never be able to muster the seapower to defeat our fleet. That's how this war will be won – at sea. If they don't control the seas, they can't move supplies or reinforcements to their troops in the Earth Kingdom, and they can't touch the Water Tribes at all." Finally Jet fell silent, and then rose to his feet. Zuko followed his example, struggling to keep his facial expression neutral. "Ozai is a fool if he believes that the Earth Kingdom is his."

His words were eerily similar to Iroh's. "It's not wise to underestimate the Fire Nation," Zuko said bitterly.

Jet glanced at him, eyes flickering again over his scar. "I know. You understand that. That's why I've told you all of this, and I believe that's why Deukku brought you here. The Fire Nation has hurt you, and this is the place where you can revenge that hurt. One of the last places in the world." He looked out to sea again, and his face relaxed. "Let's head back. Sorry to be so bleak," he apologized, sounding like Deukku, and opened the trapdoor again. "Really, what do we have to fear from a Firelord who's so loathsome that only his daughter will wed him?"

Zuko froze, glad of the dark that partially hid his astonishment from Jet. It took every ounce of strength in his body to control his trembling tongue and twitching hands and remark calmly, "I hadn't heard that."

"News reached us just this week. The marriage ceremony is to take place after she returns home for a brief respite from hunting the Avatar. Then, it's rumoured, if she does well in dealing with Ba Sing Sae, he'll make her Firelady. As I recall, there hasn't been a Firelady in many years," Jet mused as they descended. Zuko forced his legs to move, still somewhat in shock. "The spy who brought us the news held the opinion that Ozai's trying to cheat his firstborn out of the throne, but he was vague on that. Seems like typical Firelord behaviour to me."

"It's a rumour," Zuko said. "Why would Az…his daughter stop her pursuit, even for a wedding ceremony? The whole world is looking for the Avatar. It doesn't make sense."

Jet shrugged passively, then waved to Shong as they exited. The group on the porch had diminished, but the girl with the samisen was still playing. They walked through the darkened streets in silence.

The group from the inn had re-assembled in front of the Spiderfish, Zuko noted dully. It looked like a fight would be taking place in short order, but Zuko couldn't have been more disinterested. Jet seemed to notice and gestured down the street.

"You look tired. Why don't you turn in for the night? You'll need sleep if you're going to start working tomorrow."

Zuko muttered a stock agreement and thank-you, and walked down the street to the disused tavern where they were staying, his mind in a fog. He barely noticed that, inside the old tavern, Smellerbee had left them several days' worth of food, cooking things, and more blankets. Iroh was snoring peacefully in the next room while Zuko collapsed on his own pallet and willed sleep to come. He used an old meditation technique, surprised that he still remembered it after all of the years, and though his body objected violently he was soon engulfed in the cloak of sleep, oblivious to the world that seemed to have nothing better to do than taunt him.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sokka traveled for nearly a day on an ostrich-horse borrowed from a friendly farmer, stopping only briefly to feed and water it. He tried not to waste any of his provisions, knowing full well that it would take him many days to reach Nanami. As he rode, he watched the darkening sky with trepidation. An ugly-feeling wind was blowing down from the north.

"Storm," he said to the ostrich horse sourly. "We're going to have to either outrun it or weather it. What do you think?"

The ostrich horse squawked, and pawed at the dust briefly before picking up its pace. Sokka grinned and loosened his grip on the reins. "There's a bird after my own heart. Yip-yip!"

They ran for another hour at most. Sokka groaned as his sore tailbone hit the saddle again, then swiveled around to glare at the ominous clouds. They were closer than he remembered, and he shivered as lightning split the sky in half, remembering the girl who had pursued them. He dug his knees into the ostrich horse's sides.

It slowed for a moment, then began to run faster than it had before. After recovering from the shock of the pain it caused his black-and-blue backside, Sokka pulled hard on the reins. "Woah, buddy! That's enough for tonight."

Thunder rumbled above them and then the rain started, drenching both of them. The ostrich horse cawed and cantered from side to side as Sokka attempted to bring it to a stop so he could dismount. The large head whipped around and Sokka saw that its glassy eyes were full of fear. "Easy," he tried to reassure it, but he had to shout over the sound of the rain and it only struggled harder.

Then the lightning flashed again, and the ostrich horse shrieked and threw Sokka off its back. He hit the mud with a wet slap and pain lanced through him. The last thing he saw were the black clouds, racing over him as if chased. He gasped in pain and blacked out.


	3. Numb

**Chapter Three**

Zuko awoke to the sound of his uncle's weak coughing. Grabbing a blanket from the pile Smellerbee had left, he hurried into the next room. It was chilly, and he stoked the fire before going to Iroh's side and putting the extra blanket over the bedclothes.

"Uncle?" he asked, trying not to seem over-eager as he knelt next to Iroh. His heart was racing.

Yet Iroh's eyes were open and clear, and they focused without apparent effort on Zuko. He smiled at his nephew and attempted to sit up.

"Maybe you shouldn't do that," Zuko cautioned. "You've been unconscious for several days. Azula attacked you."

"Yes, I remember," Iroh said, pausing for breath. He reached down and removed the blankets, struggling to rise. "Zuko – "

Zuko quickly got up and helped his uncle to his feet. Iroh's face was twisted, but it looked more like an expression of concentration than of pain. "Tell me – "

"We're in a seaport town," Zuko said. "A man came upon us after Azula disappeared – "

"All in good time," Iroh forced out. "Right now I'm looking for a bathroom."

"Oh." Zuko gritted his teeth at his own foolishness, but then, he had never tended to anyone before outside of simulations during his royal training. He led Iroh out into the main room and back to the platform. Iroh gagged at the stench and Zuko kept a firm hold on his uncle's arm, though he turned his head away politely.

When he had finished, Zuko helped him back inside. Still disoriented, Iroh had nonetheless taken in his surroundings, and he allowed himself to be put back in bed (though he sat, instead of lying down) while Zuko made tea and prepared a simple meal. As the rice cooked, Zuko told his uncle about what had happened in the past few days, purposefully finishing with a description of the ships and Jet's news about Azula and Ozai. Iroh's brow furrowed a bit, but otherwise he remained expressionless.

Zuko poured the tea and offered a cup to his uncle, who regarded it with more visible negative emotion than he had Zuko's news of his brother's coming marriage. He took a sip and grimaced. "Thank you, nephew. We seem to have had a great stroke of fortune." His gaze returned to Zuko. "I know that it likely was not an easy decision for you, and neither has it been easy these few days. Yet from all I can see, you have done very well."

Taken aback by his uncle's praise, Zuko flushed. At this he was even more surprised and sought to cover it by dishing out the rice and fish. "What are we going to do, uncle?"

Iroh accepted his bowl and chopsticks with great satisfaction. "About what?"

Startled, Zuko stumbled over his words. "About…about the ships. Don't we have a duty to let my father know?"

"I'm afraid the young man who told you about the ships was right. Your father is a very proud man, and he would no more accept advice from traitors than he would let those traitors go free: and as you have seen from the persistence of Azula, that he does not do."

"But we have to do _something_! The Fire Nation is still our country. We can't allow it to suffer in the war."

Iroh sighed. "We are wanted traitors. Even if we are never caught, for the length of your father's reign, we are effectively banished. Search yourself, Zuko. Are you really concerned for the welfare of the Fire Nation, or do you only wish to gain status in the eyes of your father?" He noticed Zuko's hurt expression and added gently, "Not that there is anything wrong with that. But it is not worth risking both of our lives."

Silence. "And what about Azula?" Zuko finally asked, struggling to keep his emotion under control.

"I find this rumour very hard to believe," Iroh answered immediately. "Your father is many things, but I do not think that he would go to such lengths to ensure he has an heir, or for any other reason. Perhaps Azula's dogged ambition has spawned gossip. Speaking of your dear sister," he paused to wolf down another bite of fish and rice, "there is a good chance that she will not find us here. And we can use this time to our advantage."

Zuko felt relief wash over him, leaving his body feeling weak and insubstantial. He did not press further discussion, willing the unpleasant rumour out of his head. "So we're staying?"

"That is up to you, of course. You may make your own choice. But I'll stay here." Beaming, Iroh looked up at the ceiling. "I think I'll turn this place into a tea shop. You didn't see any tea shops, did you?"

Surprised, Zuko shook his head. "I don't think that I did."

"I've always wanted to run a tea shop," Iroh said, seeming to be lost in thought. Then he caught Zuko's gaze and held it steadily but without visible emotion. "And you, my nephew?"

"I'm staying with you," Zuko replied instantly. "Both Jet and Deukku said that I'd be able to find work with ease." He noticed Iroh's expression change just slightly, and though it was difficult to tell exactly what he was feeling, he looked pleased. Encouraged, the corner of Zuko's mouth twitched upward for a brief moment.

"I'm happy to hear you say that," Iroh said. "I would be lonely without you, I confess." He placed his empty bowl on the floor. "And we will finally have some time to work on your bending."

Zuko tried to conceal his pleasure. He bowed his head, palms upward in a gesture of thanks. "Thank you, Uncle."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sokka woke slowly and kept his eyes closed, using his other senses to get a grasp on his surroundings. He smelled a fire, and a meal cooking. Faintly, the sound of a babbling brook was audible. He was lying on an uneven surface, likely the ground, though there were a layer of bedclothes beneath him, and one above. Although he could hear the songs of birds, he could not feel the sun on his face or feel any breeze, and so concluded that he must be inside. He was naked except for the thin bedclothes, the material of which felt expensive.

He paused in his thought and suppressed an urge to frown. He recalled the thunderstorm,

and falling off his mount. And pain…

There was no pain now, though his left leg felt somewhere between numb and simply heavy. He also did not feel any restraints. Sighing with relief, Sokka decided that it would be alright to open his eyes.

There was a soft rustling to his right, and immediately he sat up. As he had thought, he was inside a small tent. A young woman who could not have been over twenty was kneeling next to him with a polite expression on her face. Sokka relaxed a little and found his tongue.

"Who are you? Where am I?"

The woman seemed unconcerned by his rudeness. "I am Yamele. You are on the outskirts of a small Earth Kingdom village, the name of which I do not know, in the camp of my sisters. We came upon you unconscious after the great storm. I do not advise attempting to get up," she added softly as Sokka clutched the bedclothes to his chest and shifted in a clear try to gain his feet. "Your leg was broken, though it has now been set."

Sokka paused in his struggle. "Well, thank you for your trouble. Though I can't say it was too wise. How do you know I'm not an enemy?"

The polite expression on Yamele's face grew into a polite smile. "You are a young man of a Southern Water tribe; likely the very one that has been seen traveling with the Avatar. And is not it sung,

_The newcomer_

_needs fire_

_his knees are numb._

_A man who has made_

_his way over mountains _

_needs food and fresh linen._" She paused demurely, then added, "Which will soon be brought to you."

His mouth dropped open as, if on cue, another young woman ducked inside the tent carrying a large bowl of stew, some nutbread, and Sokka's clean and mended clothing. She set them before him, bowed, and took her leave. "How do you know that song?"

"We are gisaeng, son of water. It is customary to learn the ancient songs and cultures of the people of our world."

"Call me Sokka," he offered to her as he attacked the bowl of stew. Oily rings swam on the top, and large chunks of meat floated throughout, complimented here and there with a stalk of some wild vegetable. "Mmmm. This is wonderful."

"I will convey your compliments to Umezko," Yamele said as she rose. "Do you require assistance to dress?"

"I'll try it on my own, thanks," Sokka said through a blush and a hot mouthful of stew.

"Very well." She ducked out of the tent, making sure that the flap found its way back across the mouth as she left.

Sokka spooned up another mouthful of the stew before he threw aside the bedclothes to dress. He winced at the sight of his leg, swollen and wound tightly with bandages and a wooden splint. It was difficult, but he managed to dress despite it, although it started throbbing painfully as he did so. Finally he leaned back, supporting himself on the palms of his hands and surprised to find he'd broken into a light sweat. Willing the pain to subside, he fell to the task of demolishing the rest of his meal with relish.

When he had finished, Yamele came back inside and took the empty bowl. She also folded up the bedclothes and handed him a long piece of polished, dark wood which split into two ends braced by a smaller piece of wood. On the other end there was a small round stone.

"You'll need a crutch if you plan on much moving about," she told him, showing him how to hold it. "It was the best we could craft in a short time."

Sokka ran a hand over the smooth wood and noted a pattern of intricate carvings which

descended down one side. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

With the help of Yamele and the support that the crutch provided, Sokka was able to

make it outside into the afternoon sun. He was surprised to note that there were only three other women packing up the small camp. They bowed to him briefly, and continued to pack.

"Isn't it dangerous to travel in such a small group? There are Fire Nation troops everywhere." Sokka delicately tried to sidestep the gender issue.

Yamele's face was somber as she helped him into their small wagon, pulled by a team of ostrich horses. "The Fire Nation troops have not yet been foolhardy enough to draw weapon against any gisaeng," she said softly. "We claim allegiance to no country, and the Fire Nation has recognised that. Yet we have heard of the attacks upon the Avatar, and if he is not safe, then I suppose we are not, either. Still," and here the pleasant expression returned as she gracefully settled down next to him in the wagon, "our lives are but quick-burning fires. If we die, then we accept death with honor."

Sokka winced. "For now, I'd prefer to live."

This time, Yamele actually laughed. "That is why we're making haste to leave. The Fire Nation has no time to stop and interrogate every little wagon that passes by. And although you've not told us your story yet, I'm sure, with all your worries and weapons, that we have good reason to take to the trail."

"I appreciate it," Sokka said. One of the gisaeng took the high seat at the front of the wagon and gathered the reins for the ostrich horse team, while the others settled around him. Yamele and the one who had cooked the meal, Umezko, tucked cloths under his broken leg.

"The movement of the wagon may jar it, and that would affect its healing," Yamele explained. "We are taking the most direct route to our destination, and the roads are old and uneven."

"Where are you headed?"

Yamele exchanged a small smile with the others. "You're in luck," she said. "Our destination is Nanami, a few days northwest."

"Great!" Sokka frowned as the wagon began to move. "But how did you know where I was going?"

Now Umezko spoke, though Sokka noticed that she glanced at Yamele before she did so. "We're sorry for the breach of privacy, but we read the message that you had in your satchel."

Yamele's delicate eyebrows lifted, and Umezko cleared her throat. "_I_ read the message," she confessed, somewhat shamefaced. "I just wanted to ensure the safety of my sisters. One can't be too careful these days. I mean to insinuate no accusation…"

"I'd have done the same thing," Sokka assured her. She looked relieved.

The third gisaeng sitting inside the wagon gestured to the others for a chance to speak. "We know more about you than you have willingly offered to us," she said to Sokka, head bowed. "Yet it is less than what you know of us."

"Of course, if you are tired, then by all means take your rest," Yamele interjected. "My sisters are merely curious. It is not often that they have a chance to converse with a member of the Water tribe."

Sokka grinned. "I'm fine. I'd be happy to repay your kindness by regaling you with the tales of my journey."

Yamele and Umezko exchanged smiling glances.

He told them what he remembered, though his tales were much less full of bravery than he had originally thought. He was filled with feelings of nostalgia and loneliness when he recalled Katara, Aang and even Toph. When he came to leaving the rest of the group, his cheerful voice faltered and he paused, lost in thought. Tactfully, the gisaeng sat with downcast eyes, waiting for him to finish. The rocky movement of the wagon reminded him yet again of the pain in his leg, and he had broken out in a fine sheen of sweat.

"Maybe I shouldn't have left them," he admitted. "It was frustrating sometimes to be the oldest, to be the only one who couldn't bend. I don't have a bond with Aang as Katara does, and as we grow older I can feel even my bond with Katara weakening. I left on an angry impulse, fueled by those disappointments and desperate to see my father. And I still do want to see him, but I know that I hurt my sister and the others. If and when I do see them again, nothing can be the same. I suppose that's the choice that I made."

"You quickly and honestly realise your own flaws," Yamele noted. "That is a great gift."

Umezko shifted a little before she spoke. "Though the choice you made was difficult, and your path is one of uncertainty, it sounds as if you have made a natural decision. This is a time of war, and though your sister has the Avatar and the young earthbender, your father has neither of his children, nor his wife. If only so that he may see you are safe, it is natural for you to go to him." Seeing the uncertainty in Sokka's eyes, she added gently, "We have no reason to be dishonest with you."

_Dishonesty or optimism, it's difficult to tell_.

"Time and distance heal many wounds," the third gisaeng, Chie, added.

"Thank you for your advice. I'd like it if you would tell me about yourselves," Sokka suggested hurriedly in an attempt to steer the conversation away from himself, though he was getting tired as the pain in his leg worsened.

Umezko smiled. "But what has Yamele neglected to tell you?"

"Well," Sokka rubbed the back of his head. "To begin with, I'm not entirely sure what a 'gisaeng' _is_."

All three fell silent. Sokka scanned their faces with something akin to worry. He had been sure that they had been honest with him, yet their hesitation wasn't a good sign. Perhaps they were just excellent actors, and still meant him concealed harm?

"As I said," Yamele cut into their silence smoothly. "We gisaeng have allegiance to no nation, yet the war has limited our range, and there never were many of us in the lands of the Southern Water tribe. But in all of your travels, have you never heard of –?"

Umezko cut her off with a calm hand gesture. "We are what you may know as uppsala."

Sokka felt his blush spread down his face through his neck to the very tips of his toes, even the ones on his injured side.

"I'm flattered that you've heard of us," she continued, with a demure smile. Yamele shot her a glance and took over.

"Sokka, the legends of uppsala in your tribe come close to the definition of a gisaeng, but there are several differences. The legend involving your sixteenth birthday, for example: untrue."

"We also don't have to worry about frostbite," said Umezko cheerfully.

"Uh," he commented.

"We are trained for years to become gisaeng," Yamele said. "We learn song, dance, tea and incense ceremony, healing, storytelling, embroidery – all ten thousand arts."

"As well as all of the forty-eight positions of – " Umezko swallowed her words as Yamele shot her another icy glare. Sokka's face was so hot he was reasonably sure that his head was smoking. "I suppose you get the idea."

"We are one of the last nonviolent bridges between all of the countries," Yamele said solemnly. "Right now we are returning from Omashu, since it is no longer a safe place for us. We have been guaranteed a position in the house at Nanami. An attendant from our house in Omashu was to accompany us and take up a job in Nanami, but he was not allowed out of the city. Security there has tightened so much that it was difficult for _us_ to slip out, though now I can see why." Sokka smiled sheepishly at her. "I think it was no mistake that we found you," she continued, more mildly. "The passage to Nanami is not an easy one. I think we shall be just as glad of your company as you are of ours."

"Sokka should get some rest now," Chie put in. He noticed for the first time that she was noticeably older than the other two, and they seemed to defer to her. In any case, at her suggestion Yamele and Umezko arranged him so that he was lying comfortably and covered him with the expensive bedclothes from the night before. He thanked them as they tucked the blankets around him, trying to hide his embarrassment. Umezko bowed a little.

"I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable," she apologised. "As Yamele said, none of us have even seen a member of the Southern Water tribe. Besides, you seemed like the type to be able to take a joke."

"Lucky for you that I am," Sokka replied, grinning. She smiled back and he pillowed his head on his arms, already feeling sleep approaching.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I'm here," Zuko announced as he entered the once-tavern, not completely at ease with calling it 'home' just yet. He spotted Iroh at the far side of the main room, standing on a table and trying to affix a lantern to the wall, and nearly dropped his netted basket. "Uncle! You shouldn't be doing that!"

"Relax," Smellerbee, who was holding the table steady, replied. "He's up for it."

Iroh finally managed to adjust the lantern just right and accepted Zuko's hand as he slowly got down from the table. "With such an excellent doctor, I'm not surprised that I feel up to this," he complimented Smellerbee while reassuring Zuko. Zuko noticed that though she tried to hide it, she was obviously pleased. Sniffing, she drew herself up and headed for the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow around the same time, old man," she said over her shoulder. "And this time I won't let you hog all the work."

"Of course not," Iroh called after her. "I'll make you breakfast. Bring your appetite!"

Zuko watched his uncle carefully as Iroh sat on the table to regain his breath. His colour was better, and he looked sweaty but extremely happy.

"Look, Zuko," he said after a moment had passed. "We got quite a bit done today."

Zuko glanced around the room. The holes, which had been messily plugged, were now properly plugged with mud and covered with a thin wood. Small patches of different paint colours marked one wall, and an assortment of tables with benches attached, rugs, and loose chairs were stacked neatly in one corner. Lanterns had been fixed in a variety of places to give the room a warm, soft light.

"I know you didn't do all of this by yourself," he said.

Iroh grinned. "You're right. It seems that Jet, Smellerbee and Longshot have taken on the task of renovating, rebuilding or demolishing the ruined buildings in this town. They offered their help to me, though Jet says I'm crazy. He says the residents of this town will not know what to do with a tea shop. But we'll sail that sea when we come to it." Iroh's gaze swept the 'tea shop', and Zuko felt his heart soften at his uncle's excited face.

"I'm glad you're pleased, Uncle."

Iroh looked up at him, expression growing more serious. "And you? Did you have any luck finding work?"

"I had some difficulty getting hired," Zuko admitted. "But at last an old man agreed that he would have me for a pearlfisher." He held up the netted basket. "He warned me that it would be dangerous."

"I see." Iroh got down from the table and allowed Zuko to help him to his room. He stayed silent except for that small comment, feeling that his nephew had more to say.

"But I thought of what you once told me, Uncle, that the power of firebending is the power of breath." Zuko hesitated. "I thought that this would perhaps be a good way for me to train my breath."

Iroh graced his nephew with a broad smile and placed a hand on his back, guiding him into Iroh's room as opposed to his own. "You've chosen well. Come, I'll show you some exercises that might be useful." His smile grew mischievous. "Though from what I've heard of the fighting oysters on this coast, your biggest problem may not lie in mastering your breathing."


End file.
